Page 55 of Girl, Sought

The comments were a well-aimed strike to the tender underbelly of doubt and guilt she'd tried so hard to armor over. Because, like always, he was right. Luca had risked everything today. His safety, his sanity, his life.

And what was her response? To pick apart his choices and second-guess his every move.

‘I just… want you to be more careful. It’s me that’s going to have to sign off the mountain of paperwork this stunt is gonna generate.’

‘Y'know what? Just admit you're jealous I'm closing the gap.’

Ella's jaw nearly came unhinged. ‘Excuse me?’

‘The gap. The gap between you being hot shit at the Bureau and me being the loose cannon you kept around to kick down doors.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

'Every time I get results, you can't just let me have the win. Your jealousy always gets in the way. Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't itmewho snuck into Thorne’s office? Didn’tIfind him, figure out his location,andtake him down without firing a shot? What did you do, huh?’

Ella's breath stuttered in her throat. She was trapped somewhere between fury and frustration, because Luca had gone above and beyond on this case and pulled threads she hadn’t even seen or considered.

And maybe part of her, some small wounded thing crouched in the shadowed corners of her psyche, hated that he didn't need her hand on the back of his neck anymore.

‘I never said you didn’t do great work. I just want you to keep doing great work and not go up in a ball of flames.’

Luca crossed his arms. 'Like you've never done anything risky to get results? Like, I'll never be as good as Ella Dark? I'll always be the sidekick, is that right? Oh, and it was you whotaughtmethat little lockpicking technique, sowhat burns more - that I broke the rules, or that I learned how to break them from the best?’

She wanted to deny it, to plead misunderstanding and blame it on the post-adrenaline crash. But there was a kernel of truth in his accusation. She’d gotten used to being the best, and with Ripley gone, she thought she could fully own the mantle. And now here was Luca, proving himself her equal and more.

And some small, petty part of her resented him for it. Hated that he made it look so easy, when she'd had to claw and scrape for every scrap of respect in this boys' club of a bureau.

But even through the choking miasma of her own shortcomings, a glimmer of hope sparked. Because Luca wasn't like the preening alpha males who'd underestimated her at every turn. He wasn't threatened by a strong woman - he wanted her to be her best self, even if it meant outshining him.

And this was her chance to return the favor. To step back, cede the floor, and let him claim his well-earned place in the sun.

‘Maybe you ought to take this interrogation alone. You did all the work.’

‘What?’

‘You found Thorne, you cuffed him, you did the whole hero bit and saved the day. So go on and finish the job.’

‘No. I want you in there with me. Ineedyou in there with me because I'm not ashamed to admit that you do things better than me. Interrogations is one of them.’

‘So? If this is our last case together, what are you going to do next time you gotta question someone?’

Luca squared his shoulders. ‘Come in with me. I’ll do the talking.’

‘Fine.’

Ella's throat closed. She had to swallow something bitter before going in there because her partner had done great work today. Maybe too good. And that realization terrified her as much as any masked murderer could.

Because if Luca didn't need her anymore, what did that make her? Just another collector, desperately holding onto something that wasn't really hers to keep.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Ella followed Luca into the interrogation room. She'd ceded the lead to her partner, but old habits died hard. Every fiber of her being itched to take control and steer the questioning down paths Luca might overlook.

But she'd made a promise to him and to herself. Time to let Luca shine, even if it meant biting her tongue until it bled.

Gabriel Thorne sat slumped at the metal table, nursing bruises to body and ego. He looked up as they sat down, and Ella clocked the telltale tics of guilt: the rapid blinking, the knee bounce, the fingers knotting and unknotting like he was trying to weave a credible lie on the fly. His designer suit had transformed into expensive garbage, and the bruise from Luca's right hook painted abstract art across his jaw in shades of purple.

‘So, Gabe - mind if I call you Gabe? I've been reading up on you. Gotta say, your sticky fingers get around. Baseball cards, rare coins, depression glass. you're a regular Robin Hood. What I can't figure is how a two-bit grifter makes the jump to murder.’

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